


What Could Have Been

by but_im_danger



Series: What Could Have Been [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Post-Captain America: The First Avenger, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad and Beautiful, Sad and Sweet, Steggy - Freeform, but its gonna be okay, steve survives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6420103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/but_im_danger/pseuds/but_im_danger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Steve didn't go down with the plane? What if he'd been able to escape and not freeze for seventy years? What if Steve got the life he deserved?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> So, this sounds a little bit morbid (and it is, in some spots), but i wanted to explore what I think would have happened if Steve hadn't gone down with his plane. This first part is kind of an overview; a taste, really, of what I hope to get into. 
> 
> Ships are Steve and Peggy. You know the drill.

The absence of war was eerie for Steve and Peggy. They didn’t have to listen for the sounds of gunshots or the howls of pain anymore; they didn’t have to take and give orders, and they didn’t have to use the ground or a moldy cot for a sleeping spot. Peggy shook if she was around loud automobiles for too long and Steve jumped at loud noises, often waking up in the middle of the night and crying for a man named Bucky who would never come back.

So as far as readjusting went, it was lucky for the two of them to try and do that together. Peggy moved Steve right in with her in her cramped apartment, but neither of them cared. The close quarters only meant that the pair could be closer together, making up for human contact that they were both starved for. It was not uncommon to find them in the kitchen; Steve would be standing behind Peggy, hands gently around her waist and nose pressed into her brown curls. Sometimes, he’d be crying, large tears leaking from his eyes; Peggy would rub his arms soothingly, pretending not to notice the tears as she waited for the water in the kettle to be ready.

Other days, Peggy would curl herself into Steve as he sat in the recliner. She would sit in his lap, legs hung over the arm of the chair, and rest her head over his chest, taking in the sound of his heartbeat and his comforting smell.

“I’d love you even if you hadn’t gone through with Rebirth,” she’d often tell him when they were like this. Steve would always smile, kissing the crown of her head.

“You’ll always be my best girl.”

Peggy kept good on her promise of teaching him how to dance. When neither of them could sleep, and those nights were frequent, they would push the furniture against the wall in the living room and they would dance. Slowly at first, then the moves would pick up, and they would both be laughing and smiling whilst looking at the other with stars in their eyes. But, these dancing sessions seldom ended happily so soon after the war. More often than not, one of the two would collapse in some kind of emotional state, and the other would try nearly desperately to pull them out of their despair before falling into such a state themselves.

What happened next always stayed the same; Steve would sniffle, and lift Peggy easily into his arms.

“What’s got a beautiful girl like you so sad?” He’d ask, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Peggy, sniffling and swallowing her anguish would always put on a wet smile, as she was so accustomed to doing.

“Just counting my lucky stars that I’ve found such a good man,” she’d say, and it wouldn’t totally be a lie.

Peggy and Steve both started working for the SSR. Due to the overwhelming sexism in the office, though, Steve spent a lot of time defending Peggy’s abilities as well as advocating more women to be employed in this field. He befriended a man named Daniel Sousa and was a superior to everyone but the chief.

Nearly everyone working for the SSR had been in the war, so their war experiences were common knowledge and sympathized with. Sometimes, Steve would get misty-eyed over thinking of the loss of his best friend. During these times, Jack Thompson would always sit on the edge of Steve’s desk. He would never say anything, wouldn’t touch Steve reassuringly or hum a tuneless song. Jack would just sit there silently, looking out the window, or examining his cuff links, saying nothing but providing strong and silent ally. Peggy would never tell Jack this, but his assistance with Steve meant more to her than he would ever know. Jack would never tell Peggy this, but he didn’t only sit with Steve as a support (which was mostly true), but he also did it so Peggy wouldn’t worry so much.

At home, Steve found himself extremely comforted by crocheting; Peggy taught him the trade on one stormy Sunday morning, and he picked it up like a true natural. Soon, there were potholders, blankets, scarves, and shawls in every basket the two owned. Steve had been used to being cold for most of his life as a result of his sickly disposition, and was still not totally used to his new physique.

Peggy could, and did, watch him crochet for hours on end. His fingers were nimble, and he normally caught his bottom lip between his teeth as he worked. He didn’t care that Peggy watched him; on the contrary, he actually felt quite safe under her watchful eye. As she watched, she’d think about everything, including but not limited to the future, the past, and tomorrow.

She couldn’t bring Michael back. She couldn’t bring Bucky back, either. She couldn’t take back any of the lives that had been lost under her command and at her own hand. All she could do was hope that those poor souls had found solace somewhere on the other side of things. Peggy didn’t like to think too far in the future. The outbreak of the war all those years (although not really that many) ago had been such a surprise that any plan of hers more than a month in advance were ruined. During the war, plans weren’t made more than a few days ahead of time. Call it fear, call it adjusting to how she’d had to live, but Peggy still never planned too far ahead. Tomorrow was always a much safer bet. Something with Steve, of course. Probably leafing through some cases at work. Probably no outbreak of war or the threat of having Steve ripped away from her.

For the first few months, sex was absolutely out of the question for them both. Steve was inexperienced and Peggy would never rush him; but more than that, neither of them were really ready. They were still so young, and had seen so much in their lives that the only thing they needed or wanted was to fall asleep tangled up with each other with the hope that the other would still be present when the sun rose the next day.

It was rare that either of them made it past 7, as it turned out. Steve would wake up first, normally from a nightmare, in a cold sweat and with an accelerated heartbeat. He’d look around, feeling a slight panic when he didn’t immediately recognize the floral wallpaper. When he’d see Peggy, though, head on his chest and bobby-pinned hair coming loose, he’d nearly cry in relief. He wasn’t in the war anymore. He was home—well, what now was home—but it was more than that. This place, this tiny apartment in the city wasn’t home. No, it was the woman in his arms. She was home.

On the other side of the coin, it took Peggy forever to fall asleep at night. Every noise from the city below would frighten her; was it an enemy? An assassin? No, it was never any of those things. More often than not, it was a cat or a drunken homeless man. After every sound, it would take her nearly ten minutes to calm down before she could even consider sleeping again, and by that time, she’d heard at least seven more noises. It was a vicious cycle, but she was comforted by Steve’s strong arms and warm body. He made things okay; he was her rock. She didn’t think she would have made it through the war without him. Though it was awful, all of it, his blue eyes and kind smile always kept her going. One night, in the dead of winter, huddled under many blankets and thermals, Peggy had a realization that hit her like a truck. It would never matter where she lived. She could live in a box or a mansion, on a boat, or in a palace—it didn’t matter to her, because nothing would be home without Steve.


	2. I Love You Most

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Steve and Peggy's Anniversary!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, sorry it took so long to get this up. I promise I didn't forget! Hope it was worth the wait

The nostalgia of this day was nearly too much for Steve to bear. One year previously, they were still neck deep in the war. Bucky’s loss stung Steve even worse then than it did in the present. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t think about Bucky every day, that he didn’t wish anything to have him back. It’d been so long since he’d had his best friend at his side. Some days, he’d swear that he forgot what it was like, and most days he knew too well that he remembered.

What he remembered most of that day though, was what he thought had been his last conversation with Peggy. He thought he was going to die, and she thought the same. Even in the midst of his apparent imminent death, the two still made plans for the next Saturday night. His last thought before he’d hit the ice was that he’d be late, and stand up his best girl.

He didn’t expect to wake up in an infirmary a few days later. Blinking furiously, he surveyed the room, seeing Dum Dum sprawled out on the couch, Howard Stark on the floor, face first into the coffee table, and to his right, he saw an angel. Peggy was sleeping, feet tucked up under her, head on the bed next to his hip. Her hair was quite unkempt, which was not common for her, but Steve didn’t care. Tears of joy welled in his eyes as he’d looked around and seen the people he loved most, which were still alive, in this room, waiting for him to wake up.

Shaking the thought gently from his head, he looked down at Peggy, still asleep on his chest. Her pinned up hair was a bit messy at this point, as she’d been sleeping for most of the night. She still looked like an angel, just like the first time he’d seen her. Always so beautiful, so kind, so strong willed, Steve couldn’t imagine a world without Peggy, and come to think of it, he couldn’t imagine how he had gotten along without her.

The morning outside was sunny, and if the forecast was to be believed, it would be a warm day. Steve’s plan for his and Peggy’s anniversary had to be perfect down to the last detail, and the warm, sunny day would lend beautifully to that. It had been so difficult keeping his plans from Peggy. Steve wasn’t the best liar in the world, and Peggy was very adept at picking out Steve’s lies. Perhaps he was getting better, perhaps she decided not to pry, or perhaps both, Steve didn’t know but he was entirely glad that she hadn’t asked too many questions.

He peeked at the clock next to their bed. 7:30. This was a new record for Peggy—normally she was awake long before the sun. It was comforting, though, that the hauntings of the war were starting to make themselves less present every single day. Blinking away the nightmares had been exhausting. Thinking about Bucky was draining, and the sudden awful sensation of falling nearly every night before he’d fallen asleep had Steve more wary than he cared to mention. But it was all going away now. Slowly, yes, but it was leaving.

He tore his gaze away from the window when he felt another set of eyes on him. Turning slowly, he looked down and saw that Peggy was awake, watching him with her beautiful doe-like eyes. She smiled when he looked at her.

“Good morning,” she mumbled, her accent still a bit thick with sleep. Steve couldn’t hide his smile, and he kissed her forehead gently.

“There’s my best girl,” he said, like he did on most mornings. Peggy typically snorted and made a snarky comment of how she was Steve’s only girl, but this morning was different. This morning, she held Steve a little tighter, nuzzling against the crook of his neck. Apparently, the date was not lost on her, either. She remembered today all too well. A year ago, she thought that she’d lost the love of her life and her heart had been in a near state of disrepair until she’d gotten the call that they found the plane and Steve was still alive. Even to this day, she has nightmares and fleeting thoughts about what life without Steve would be like.

“What should we do today, darling?” She asked, stifling a yawn against Steve’s neck. He shivered at the sensation, goosebumps popping up over his arms, but he smiled.

“I’ve got some plans, if you would come with me?”

He phrased it as a question. He always did. This relationship was about choice. Peggy didn’t _have_ to go with him today. If she chose not to, he had a backup. But, when he asked her to accompany him like he had so many times before, she’d always said yes, and he didn’t think this time would be any different.

“Of course,” she said, smiling against his skin. She adored the way Steve phrased things like that. He knew just how she wanted to be asked things, and he always treated her with such respect. “What have you got planned?”

Steve paused here. He didn’t want to tell Peggy about the plans he had for their anniversary. He’d done so well so far, not giving away any of his secrets or plans. As if she could read his mind, that amazing woman, she answered.

“I’m going to assume this has something to do with what today is,” she said softly, leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to Steve’s lips. He kissed her back, humming affirmatively, and feeling a small blush on his cheeks. After a moment, Peggy pulled away, cupping Steve’s face in her hands and smiling down at him.

“How long have you known?” Steve murmured, smiling up at her affectionately. Peggy looked at the ceiling, as if trying to remember when they both knew full well that she remembered the exact moment when she knew.

“Oh, about two weeks ago when I found you hunched over a notebook and you nearly hit the ceiling when I spoke to you,” she said honestly, smiling and kissing Steve’s newly reddened cheeks. “But don’t worry, darling, I don’t know what you have planned. I promise,” she said, smiling as Steve gently stroked her face with his fingertips.

“Looks like we’re in for a beautiful day,” Steve smiled, gently unpinning Peggy’s hair, like he did every morning. Slowly, he worked his way across Peggy’s entire stash of thick, brown hair, running his fingers through it and primping it once he’d finished. This was one of their favorite parts of the day by far.

“Mm, yes,” Peggy sighed contently, and smiled. “I think I’ll wear that lovely purple dress you surprised me with last week.” Steve smiled, pressing another kiss to Peggy’s lips.

“I think that would be perfect.”

 

First, Steve took her to the art gallery. Although he knew she wasn’t as much of an artist as he was, he knew that she loved looking at art, and loved even more when Steve talked about the paintings, the artist, and the technique. They walked arm and arm throughout the whole gallery, pacing themselves, as if there was no hurry in the world. For them, there wasn’t a hurry. Yes, Steve had stuff planned for later, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy the paintings for now.

“I love that one,” Peggy said softly, referring to a particular painting done from Picasso’s blue period. Steve smiled, pausing in front of the painting.

“Yeah, this is one of my favorites,” he said softly. After a few more seconds of admiration, they continued on.

The sun continued shining throughout the day, and it was warm enough that Steve and Peggy ate outside at one of the small cafes. A warm breeze ruffled the trees, Peggy’s hair, and her dress. Royal purple looked absolutely magnificent on Peggy, really bringing out the rich color of her beautiful eyes.

“You look beautiful,” Steve said, reaching across the table and taking her hand, squeezing fondly, and she smiled at him, finishing off her tea.

“You’ve got quite the eye for color,” she commented, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand.

“It’s easy when you look so nice in everything,” Steve said, smiling as Peggy used her napkin to wipe the remains of his sandwich crust from by his mouth.

 

Their next stop was to the theater. Peggy had been dying to see the newest cartoon by Walt Disney. The animation and mostly light-hearted content made her feel better, a little less like such a monster from her role in the war. Actually, when she thought about it, she was a bit surprised that Steve remembered that she’d wanted to see this; she mentioned it probably only twice.

They sat in the back, away from the children and their parents in the front. Steve watched these kids, smiling when he saw their excitement, his own eyes twinkling. Peggy caught sight of this, and couldn’t help but smile, too.

“Oh, they are cute, aren’t they?” Peggy said, intertwining her fingers with Steve’s. For a moment, Steve didn’t answer, he was too enthralled with smiling and watching the kids. Then, he cleared his throat and looked down.

“Before the serum, kids always liked me, because I was little like them,” Steve explained, smiling a bit.

“I didn’t know that,” Peggy said, running her red-painted fingernails through Steve’s hair, voice dropping gently as she sensed the sensitive topic.

“Little guys had to stick together,” Steve said, smiling a close-lipped smile before looking at Peggy. His eyes showed hurt, although this wasn’t a necessarily hurtful topic, but Peggy smiled sympathetically back at him.

“And now that you’re big, you can help the little guys more than you could have before,” she told him, watching his eyes alight with that idea. He leaned in and kissed Peggy, her words meaning so much to him. The cartoon started then, and the pair settled in for the show.

By the time the cartoon was over, it was nearly dinner time, the part of their anniversary that made Steve the most nervous, because for the first time in his entire life, Steve would be cooking dinner for Peggy. He planned on setting their kitchen up romantically, like the restaurants Peggy loved so much in France. Every detail had been planned out in his head, and his nerves couldn’t get in the way of this.

 

Apparently, his nerves could get in the way of this. After they got home, Steve had shooed Peggy into their bedroom under the pretense of having her relax after their long day, although they both knew that Peggy really knew what Steve was up to. For the first time in his memory, Steve was going to make a proper dinner for the pair. He had a chicken in the oven, and vegetables on the stove, with Peggy’s favorite biscuits freshly made from the bakery down the street.

He’d never wanted to be more perfect before. Peggy deserved this, she deserved the best anniversary possible, and when he thought back on it, he thought he’d done a pretty good job all day of making sure she had a great one. For the millionth time it seemed, Steve pulled the small black velvet box from the pocket of his slacks and opened it.

Inside was a beautiful bracelet, silver, with tiny gems incrusted in the center of each delicate link. He hoped Peggy would like it, although she wasn’t much of a jewelry girl. Though he would never admit it to Peggy, he honestly considered buying her a ring and proposing on their anniversary. But, he didn’t think that would be the best idea this time around. Peggy wanted to get settled, the war was such a world uprooting experience for the both of them. While it wasn’t really questioned whether or not they would be married, it was only a question of time.

While he stirred the vegetables, Steve thought about Peggy’s parents. He knew he should ask their approval for Peggy’s hand. Steve wasn’t crazy about the idea, and he knew Peggy well enough to know that she wouldn’t be too keen on him asking her mum and dad, “Say, I’ve been in love with your daughter since we first met, would it be dandy to go ahead and marry her?” He snorted, shaking his head as he imagined Peggy’s response to such a thing. “Steven Rogers, I am perfectly capable of deciding to marry you myself!” He imagined her saying sharply, and he couldn’t help but shake his hand in fondness.

One day.

The timer for the chicken went off, and he carefully pulled it out of the oven, and to his great relief, it looked exactly like the picture had, and it smelled delicious, too. He pulled the vegetables off the stove and set them on the square table next to the chicken. Then, he lit some candles, poured some wine, and warmed up the biscuits.

For a long while, he stared at the scene, trying to decide if he was missing anything, trying to imagine anything he could do better. He sighed. It was times like this when he really wished Bucky was around. Things would be so much easier. Bucky would know just what to say, just how to help Steve make everything perfect. Pain surged through Steve’s chest, so hard that he had to lean on the table for support.

Yeah, it’d been over a year since he lost Bucky. But, that didn’t matter. Bucky had always been there for him, had always been his friend when no one else would. And he was gone, gone far too early. Steve often had flashbacks of watching his best friend in the world fall off the train, right out of his grasp…

He cleared his throat, rubbing his face to try and chase away those awful memories. It took a few moments to steady himself and calm down, but when he was finally calmed, he came into the bedroom, and smiled at Peggy, curled up and reading the new Agatha Christie. He walked to her, and held his hand out for her to take.

“I’m ready for you now,” he said, smiling hugely as she put her book down and met his gaze.

“Now, I wonder what you’ve been up to,” Peggy said faux-suspiciously, taking his hand and returning his smile.

“You’ll just have to come into the kitchen and see for yourself,” Steve said, leading her into the kitchen and pausing right after he walked inside, because he wanted to see her reaction. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Oh, Steve!” Peggy gasped, covering her mouth. The table was set elegantly, and he made what looked like chicken and vegetables, with her favorite biscuits to top the whole thing off. Steve looked at her, nervousness showing through obviously on his face.

“Do you like it?” He asked, biting his lip and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Peggy gave him a kiss, and smiled.

“Darling, it’s perfect, but now that I know you can cook,” she said with a glint in her eye, “you’ll have to do it more often.”

Steve laughed, pulling her back for another kiss, this time a longer, sweeter one.

“Sounds like a good deal to me.”

The dinner was a success. Steve seasoned and cooked the chicken just right, and the vegetables were still a bit crunchy, just how they both liked. Peggy and Steve shared dish duty, although they got more water and soap on each other than on the dishes.

Lying in bed that night, they both felt full and loved. It was a beautiful feeling, Peggy thought, and if this is what love was like, she would have it for as long as she could.

“Peg?” Steve asked quietly, looking down at her.

“Hm?” Peggy responded, smiling softly but not opening her eyes.

“I have something for you,” Steve said, seeing Peggy open her eyes slowly and turning to look up at him.

“Something else? Darling today’s been incredible,” she said, reaching up and putting her hand on his cheek. Steve pressed his cheek against her soft touch, but smiled at her.

“Only the best for my girl,” he said, smiling when Peggy patted his cheek gently.

“You’ve got my attention darling,” she told him, and he smiled, pulling the small velvet box from his pocket and opening it. Immediately, Peggy gasped. “Oh Steve!” She said, for what seemed to be the millionth time that day.

“Do you like it?” He asked, still nervous about his choice of jewelry. Before he got an answer, Peggy’s lips crashed into his, but really, that was all the answer he needed.

A bit later, after some more kissing, Peggy lay in Steve’s arms, her beautiful new bracelet on her wrist.

“I love you,” she told him quietly. He smiled, and kissed the crown of her head.

“I love you most.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these dweebs. What did you think?

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this when i was pretty down in the dumps (and it probably shows, haha), but i am pretty pleased with how it turned out. 
> 
> As per usual, the idea behind this was not totally mine, and i have my wonderful cupcake to thank for the assistance. Seriously, what a gem he is. 
> 
> What do you guys think? You know I'd love to hear! :)


End file.
